Forever and Always: Severus and Lily's Story
by LilyNoelle Rothe
Summary: This is the tale of Sev and Lily, beginning in childhood and ending after the war in Hogwarts. I hope I can carry you through this journey of love, regret, and second chances. It is my spin on the Prince's Tale, and I promise this will be one long fic!
1. The Girl Next Door

Chapter 4 "The Midnight Witch"

**Chapter One The Girl Next Door**

Nine-year-old Petunia Evans was quite suspicious of the family that lived down the road. Awake at all hours, they were – with their dark old house, the garden of oddly-scented herbs, and the leaning chimney with its curling grey smoke. Very out of place, Petunia thought of the Snapes. Spinner's End had never known such a dysfunctional family. The woman, Eileen, seemed touched in the head; not only did she talk to her plants, but she always carried with her a long, smooth stick that she waved about at odd moments. Her husband, a drinker, had such a temper – Petunia often heard his bellowing tirades from her room.

Strange things always seemed to happen at the Snape house. Petunia could swear she had seen Eileen disappear on the spot, and it seemed the Snape's garden bloomed far earlier than anyone else's. The tragedy of the Snape family, so far as Petunia's mum was concerned, was the mistreatment of their little boy. Eight-year-old Severus (what kind of name was that? Petunia wondered) was always lurking behind trees and in the shadows of his yard, wearing too-small clothes and sporting black hair that looked as though it had never been cut. The boy was far too skinny and very pale; his dark eyes appeared to see things that other children could not see, so bright and keen were they. He was hardened and bitter beyond his years.

Petunia's mum had mentioned that Severus was regularly beaten by his father. His bruised skin and hunched shoulders told the entire neighborhood of his abuse. Eileen was too frightened for her own sanity to protect her son. Her own skin was bruised to such a degree that she wore long cloaks to cover it up. At least, that was what the Evans believed. Why else would anyone wear cloaks?

At age seven, Severus had taken to avoiding his parents as much as possible. He spent hour after hour outside, writing, drawing, and reading. He did not read children's books. Petunia always saw him with old, thick volumes that looked far too advanced for his age. Curiously enough he wrote on parchment – with a feather pen. Indeed, there was something very wrong with the Snape family … and Petunia Evans was determined to uncover their mystery.

On a blustery winter morning just before dawn, Petunia heard a strange noise coming from outside her window. Peering out into the dark below, Petunia stifled a scream. In the Snape's backyard, Eileen was tapping her rose bushes with a stick, muttering strange words under her breath. Each rose shuddered open in turn, spreading their petals with an unnatural speed. Shivering, Petunia crept to her little sister's room.

"Lily?" She whispered, carefully opening the heavy door.

"Lily, wake up!"

Lily was not in her bed, nor anywhere in the small room. Petunia grew frightened. Peeking out of Lily's window Petunia glimpsed a flash of red below: Lily's hair. Quiet as possible Petunia snuck downstairs and outside. She found Lily kneeling behind a tree, watching Eileen Snape with eager eyes.

"Lily! Come here – now!"

Petunia tried to keep her voice from breaking its whisper; the last thing she wanted was to alert the mad-woman next door of their presence. With a gasp, Eight-year-old Lily spun to face her sister.

"Shh, 'Tuney," she giggled, careful not to let Eileen hear, "look!"

Petunia nearly fainted when she turned her gaze to where Lily pointed. The Evans' Elder tree, which had been dead all winter, was slowly producing tiny green leaves. Lily was moving her hands slowly, apparently bidding the tree to bloom.

"How-" Petunia gasped, "how are you doing that?"

Lily shrugged. The more that she focused on the Elder the more tiny shoots sprang forth.  
Petunia's face was white.

"You're touched in the head, Lily Evans – just like her!" Petunia whispered between clenched teeth, her eyes flicking back and forth from Lily to Eileen. A horrible thought entered Petunia's mind.

"What if somebody saw you?"

Lily appeared deeply hurt, and she turned to face her sister.

"Well don't worry, 'Tuney. It's dark. No one saw."

But Lily Evans could not have been more wrong. From his bedroom window, cloistered in shadows, little Severus Snape had witnessed the entire scene. He had never met another child who could "make things happen" the way he could. He had thought his mum was the only witch in the town, and he the only wizard. With this startling reveal of Lily Evans, Severus was determined to introduce himself … and, with any luck, make his first real friend.


	2. Muggles and Mudbloods

Always and Forever

**Chapter Two Muggles and Mudbloods**

Severus spent the rest of the week planning, plotting ways to "just happen" to meet Lily. A carefully drawn map of the nearby playground listed all the times Lily came out to play with Petunia. She never came alone, Severus sighed. He would have to introduce himself to Petunia, also – whom, as far as he was concerned, had not an ounce of witch in her.

Had he been an ordinary child, Severus would have simply run next-door and introduced himself to Lily. As it were, Severus was not accustomed to socializing; his entire life thus far had been spent in his parent's clutch, his (rather protuberant) nose buried in books about magic, philosophy, and art. He was so used to his solitary existence that it was proving difficult to break into the playful, dreamlike world that lay just over the fence – that carefree kingdom of childhood that contained the object of Severus' childish desire: little Lily Evans.

The obstacles that lay in his path to Lily were few, but they were difficult obstacles nonetheless. First of all, there was his own mother. Eillen Prince Snape was a beaten woman, physically and spiritually; her once-bright spirit had been completely demolished by her husband, Tobais. Tobais Snape had not been born with the gift of magic. He had married Eileen in full knowledge that she was a witch, with the hopes that he could learn the craft from her. Magic could not merely be learned, he soon found out – one had to be born with it. And he, Tobais Snape, had Not been born a wizard. A bitterness towards his young wife settled quickly into his soul. When Eileen became pregnant with their son, Tobais had hoped against hope that the boy would be "normal." When the baby showed signs of being a wizard, Eileen had rejoiced. Tobais, on the other hand, sank deeper into an already growing habit: alcoholism.

Tobais was a cruel and violent drunkard. When he drank (which was everyday) he turned hand and fist to his wife. Eileen was forbidden to do magic and forbidden to teach her son magic. Despite all outward appearances, Tobais was not a fool. He knew that his wife practiced magic at night and took every spare moment to tell Severus, in whispered words, of his rich heritage. Whenever Tobais caught his wife doing such things, he beat her until her skin bruised and her spirit broke. As soon as Severus was old enough to walk, Tobais beat him as well – not so hard or often as he did Eileen, but enough to make both mother and son fear the man with their very lives.

Fear had turned to hate. Eileen constantly warned Severus not to end up like her. She warned him against non-magical people ("muggles") on a daily basis.

"Never marry a muggle," she would whisper. "Never trust a filthy muggle – look at me! Look at where my blind trust landed me."

As a result, Severus had learned not only to ignore muggles, but to hate and fear them. Eileen, in her disillusioned, weary state, had even turned her loathing to the "mudbloods" – magical people whose parents were muggles.

People like Lily Evans.

Lily Evans was a mudblood. Severus knew the term was wrong, but he had grown up with it. He was so used to the word that, to him, it had ceased to be a swear-word. To his mum, however, mudbloods were the dirt of the magical world. Severus was terrified to ask Eileen's help with winning Lily's trust. He could not tell his mother that he wished to befriend a mudblood. Eileen had enough of her own worries; Severus would have to figure this out on his own.

The second obstacle was Lily's sister, Petunia. She had the potential to cause more trouble than Eileen. Severus sometimes caught the little blonde girl watching him critically across the fence, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Her face seemed permanently set as though she had just eaten something sour. Her reaction to Lily's enchantment of the Elder tree told Severus that Petunia Evans would not accept Lily's true identity very readily – if at all.

Severus sighed. He stared glumly down at the pile of maps and notes on his lap. He squinted through his small, cramped handwriting:

"Lily and sister: after school; playground. 3:00 pm."

"Lily and sister: before church; swings. 7:00 am."

"Petunia, alone. Afternoon. Gave me a look."

The eight-year-old boy shook his head, long black hair falling into his eyes. Even if he did figure out a plan and worked up the courage to speak to Lily, what would he say? His heart fluttered nervously. He should probably practice, he reasoned. Standing, he went to his mirror. Pretending Lily stood there, he smiled. It was odd to see his severe young face appear happy. Severus tried hard to ignore the old, ill-fitting clothes he wore. The Evans sisters always dressed so proper. What would they think of him? "The truth, that's what they'll think," Severus thought with a scowl, "that I am poor and underfed and terrified …" He shoved his insecurities out of his mind and began to practice. From then until Eileen finished dinner, Severus pretended to address Lily.

"Hello, my name is Severus Snape."

"Hey, I'm Severus."

"Hi, I'm Severus Snape. I just thought you should know: you're a witch."

"Good to meet you. Severus Snape …"

Finally, he headed downstairs. He felt he had accomplished nothing. He would just have to show up at the playground and hope for the best …


	3. Lily's Secret

Chapter 4 The Midnight Witch

**Chapter Three Lily's Secret**

Lily brushed her long red hair away from her eyes. She settled herself onto her bed, pulled her knees to her chin, and opened her diary. She rarely wrote in the little blue journal, but tonight she did not know who to turn to. Lily had a secret, and only her diary could be trusted. Turning to a blank page, Lily began to write.

"Something is happening to me. Petunia says I'm going mad. Strange things happen around me. Whatever is wrong with the woman next door is also wrong with me."

Lily lay down her pencil and bit her lip thoughtfully. It was true: Petunia was growing quite suspicious of the odd things Lily – and Mrs. Snape - could do. She had promised not to tell the Evans, but it scared her when Lily floated to the ground after jumping from their tree house, or when she summoned toys from across the room.

Lily was not scared. The idea of this unexplained talent filled her young mind with wonder and delight. It couldn't be too irregular, she reasoned; after all, the Snape woman made strange things happen, too. Lily shook her head. She was confused as to what, exactly, all of this meant. Perhaps Petunia was right, she sighed. Was it possible she was losing her mind? Was she turning into some kind of a nutter at only eight-years-old? Her emerald eyes clouded.

Lily knew that Petunia was obsessed with being just like everybody else. If Tuney had a sister with some sort of abnormality she would probably curl up and die – save herself the misery of being different, Lily thought with a giggle. It was all too much to comprehend just now. The clock downstairs chimed ten. Lying back, Lily closed her eyes. Her lips locked in a soft smile, she feel deeply into sleep.

The next morning dawned misty and grey, with a warm breeze floating idly though Spinner's End. Lily woke her sister at seven, begging her to go outside and play.

"You know mum doesn't let me play by myself," Lily nagged, pulling the blankets off of Petunia.

"Stop it," Petunia snapped grumpily. "And put those back; I'm cold."

"Well, it's quite warm outside. Come on, Tuney, let's go on the swings. Please?"

Petunia threw her pillow at Lily in response.

"Fine," Lily huffed, her green eyes flashing. She stuck her nose into the air and turned to go, haughtily marching towards the door. Petunia rolled her eyes.

"Later, Lily," she conceded sleepily. "After tea. Okay?"

Lily frowned suspiciously.

"Promise?"

Petunia begrudgingly nodded.

"Promise. Now go away!"

_Lily's Morning_

Tea-time had just ended; Lily was busy lacing her shoes, and Petunia worked on detangling the girls' butterfly nets.

"Want to catch butterflies today?" Petunia asked, a net in each hand.

Lily frowned.

"I don't like catching them, Tuney. It's mean."

Petunia shook her head.

"Don't worry, Lil. We'll let them go right after we catch them. They won't be hurt."

Lily nodded, still focused on her shoe laces.

"Okay," Lily announced, standing up. The girls exchanged excited grins.

"Let's go," Petunia said brightly, opening the kitchen door.

Lily burst outside.

"I'll race you!" She cried, and took off at breakneck speed. She arrived at the playground moments later.

"Hey, no fair," Petunia laughed, "you had a head start!"

Gasping for breath, the girls fell to the ground. Petunia glanced around. She furrowed her brow critically.

"Lily, look. The Snapes never repaired that big crack in their fence."

"So what if they didn't?"

"Well … it devalues the neighborhood. I can't believe we have to live next door to those freaks."

"They are not freaks!"

"No? For heaven's sake, Lily – "

Lily cut her sister off by grabbing one of the butterfly nets.

"Come on," she said cheerfully, "let's play."

Within a few minutes, the girls were busy chasing butterflies. They did not hear the sound of a door opening, nor did they see the Snape boy settle himself behind the crack in the fence. Late into the morning the sisters played, sometimes resting on the swings, sometimes surrendering a captured butterfly to the waiting wind.

Close to eleven-o-clock, Petunia spotted a great Monarch fluttering nearby.

"Lily!" She exclaimed, "look!"

Lily's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the huge butterfly.

"We have to catch it, Lily," Petunia exclaimed, lunging at the winged creature.

For a few suspenseful seconds the girls thought the butterfly had been trapped. Petunia lifted her net with keen eyes. Lily started to laugh. When Petunia looked up she saw (to her great annoyance) the Monarch, hooked on the breeze. Lily tried one more attempt at catching it, with a great leap into the air. When she landed, all thoughts of the butterfly vanished. A loud cracking noise had permeated the field. Lily buckled to the ground with a cry, tears welling up in her eyes. Petunia rushed to her sister's side and lightly lifted Lily's hand away from her ankle. To her horror, she saw that the ankle was bent at an odd angle.

"Ooo, Lily … it's broken," she murmured.

Lily shook her head fiercely.

"No, it can't be," she whispered. The pain was overwhelming, though, and she knew Petunia was right.

"What are we going to do?" Petunia asked. "Mum and dad are at the market. I can't carry you home!"

The girls sat quietly on the grass, their ideal morning now in peril. Petunia's eyes darted from Lily over to the fence.

"What is it?" Lily asked, irritated.

"N-nothing," Petunia stammered. She frowned. A branch of the Elder tree had just snapped up, as if someone had been pulling at it. She turned her attention back to Lily,

Lily was crying softly, trying unsuccessfully to be brave. Petunia felt sorry for her little sister. Even though the two girls didn't always get along, they did have a bond that only sisters share.

Suddenly, Lily felt a warm, tingling sensation all through her ankle. It felt as though her very bones were heating up. Her ankle was on fire, numb but hot. And then – release. There was no pain. She sat up in shock. She quickly felt her ankle, disbelief written across her face.

"What is it?" Petunia asked.

"My ankle – it's all better," Lily said in astonishment.

"What?! That's impossible. The bone was jutting out, I saw it …"

Petunia's voice faded away as she looked down at Lily's ankle. It was no longer bent. It looked strong and healthy. Lily stood up and walked around slowly.

"There's no pain!" she cried, her tears entirely gone.

Petunia stumbled backwards in her rush to get up.

"Something is wrong with you!" she choked, tears filling her eyes, "and it's scaring me."

Lily ran over to Petunia and touched her shoulder soothingly. Frozen in shock, Petunia just bent down, gathered up the girls' nets, and turned home.

With a reluctant sigh, Lily followed.

_Sev's Morning  
_  
Lily and Petunia arrived at the playground just as Severus finished tea. He opened the back-door and wandered into the garden. Seating himself behind the damaged section of the fence, he allowed himself to daydream – something he rarely did. His mind was too busy learning and planning to dream. Today, however, Severus felt strangely at peace with the world. As his mind floated on without his control, he relaxed into the flow of the morning.

The day was warm but grey; a sweet-scented mist floated about, smelling vaguely of grass, Eileen's magnolia tree, and the Evans' climbing roses. Severus inhaled deeply, allowing the rich scent to fill his head like a drug. He was utterly contented. Tobais was passed out on the sofa, and Eileen had taken advantage of this privacy to clean the house using magic. Lovely Lily Evans was happily playing half an acre away; Severus could hear her sweet little voice chattering on to Petunia.

The world and everything in it was still, quiet, and beautiful.

Severus smiled. Resting his head behind the fence he lazily watched as Lily and Petunia chased butterflies. His hair grew damp from the mist and curled at the ends. He liked the feeling of it against his face – it was soothing, somehow. He felt as if a curtain sheltered him from the world.

Severus lost track of time. He saw his surroundings without considering them, heard Lily's voice without registering what it said. He was lost, deeply and blissfully lost, in the tranquility of the day. He closed his eyes. For a long while, time seemed to rest in Spinner's End, not bothering to move on. Severus lingered between daydreams and genuine dreaming.

A cry from the playground broke his meditation. Pressing his face against the cracked fence, Severus found the person who had screamed.

Lily Evans.

Lily lay in a crumpled heap on the damp ground, clutching her right ankle in pain. Her dark red hair hung limply down her back, and Severus could see tears forming in those vast, soul-searching eyes.

Petunia had come to her sister's aide immediately. Severus held his breath as the flaxen-haired girl sat beside Lily, feeling her ankle with surprising tenderness. He heard Petunia's voice, usually so shrill, come out in soft, worried tones. He could not make out exactly what she was saying, but he could tell the girls were trying to assess the seriousness of the injury. He wanted to cry.

The sight of his beloved Lily, so small and weak on the ground - her butterfly net abandoned a few feet away - thoroughly broke his little boy's heart. Suddenly, Severus had an idea. He was not yet eleven, so it was not like he could get into trouble … he knew exactly how to heal Lily.

He would employ magic.

Eileen had often repaired her son's maladies with a complex little spell she called "Integro Ob Severus." Loosely translated, it meant "heal for Severus' sake." It involved profound concentration, a great deal of magical energy … and a wand. Severus did not have a wand; he was not old enough to use one.

Perhaps … no, it was not possible. Still, his eyes wandered to the Evans' Elder tree, its long branches curving into the Snape's yard. Watchful not to let the girls spot him, Severus stood and pulled a low-hanging limb to his level, gently breaking off a long, thin stem. The branch snapped back with a severe jerk. Hopefully no one had noticed. Severus clutched the stolen twig with both hands. He hoped against hope his desire to help Lily would be strong enough to turn it into a temporary wand. Leaning into the fence, Severus aimed the Elder-wood in Lily's direction. He held his breath, focusing as intently as he could on mending Lily's ankle. He felt his body fill with energy, so much so that his fingers trembled.

It was time.

"INTEGRO OB LILY!" Severus cried hoarsely, sending a pink spark flying out of the Elder stem.

He watched with bated breath as Lily sat straight up, a look of great surprise on her pale face. He saw her seize her ankle, her motions quick and incredulous.

"What is it?" He heard Petunia ask, her voice sharp and her own face lined with fear.

"My ankle – it's all better!" Severus heard Lily gasp.

He watched as Lily stood and took a few trial steps. Severus did not need to watch the scene anymore. His mind was replete with absolute joy. His head reeled as he took in the full weight of his accomplishment. He, Severus Snape, had taken Lily's pain away- using difficult magic. He could not wait to tell Lily that she was a witch so they could learn magic together. A warm thought filled him: maybe Lily would be Sorted into Slytherin! The usually studious, practical boy dreamily wandered into his home, in endless reverie over his future with Lily.

He was elated over the fact that, because of Lily Evans, he had performed his first real spell.

Severus Snape felt truly happy for the first time in his life.


	4. The Midnight Witch

Chapter 4: "The Midnight Witch"

Chapter 4

"The Midnight Witch"

By Lilynoelle

Eileen shoved her hands into her apron pocket. Her fingers felt around for the beloved wand she secretly stored there; the wood felt so cool and soothing against her tired hands. She sighed. It had been an awfully long day and the clock had finally – mercifully – struck eleven. Eileen could barely contain her relief as she stepped out into the dewy garden. Standing on the patio, wand at her side, Eileen breathed in deeply. Her son was asleep in his room, dreaming the dreams of the innocent. Tobais was sunk in a drunken stupor, knocked out on his bed. Eileen was safe, protected by the dark from her husband's prying eyes. It was only at night that Eileen could practice what she had once lived for: magic.

Eileen remembered her days as a young witch; she had been so pure and idealistic then. At age eleven she had been sorted into Slytherin, just the same as every member of her family before her. As proud and intelligent as they came, Eileen had mastered every subject she learned – her greatest love being Potions. Her old Potions textbook was well-worn and covered with her scribbled notes and ideas. She had left plenty of room in the margins for her son to someday fill. The thought gave her some comfort. Her son would be a great wizard, she could see that. Already he knew so much more than she had at his age.

Severus was already reading books about science, philosophy, history, and (of course) magic: immense, broad volumes that most adults dared not touch. Eileen was immeasurably proud of her little boy. She did everything in her power to educate him, teach him his rights and place in the magical world. She filled his head with grand stories of his ancestors; taught him all sorts of spells, potion formulas, and charms. Eileen did not allow Severus to apply the magic he learned; it was too risky, not only with Tobais around, but also because Severus was an underage wizard. If the Ministry discovered Eileen was teaching Severus advanced magic, she would be in some very hot water. They might even take her wand, and without it she was utterly powerless in this world.

Eileen's parents had never been involved with the Dark Arts, although many of her ancestors had been powerful Dark witches and wizards. It was a family legend that the Princes were related, however distantly, to Circe - a sorceress of the Darkest kind. Circe, it is said, was asked by the Sea-God (Glaucus) to create a potion to make another woman love him. Circe, however, wanted Glaucus for herself – and created a poison to deform the woman Glaucus loved. The tale had been immortalized in art and literature, and Eileen had always romanticized Circe's devotion to Glaucus. Eileen liked to fancy that she inherited her talent in Potions from Circe. She, however, had never been involved in black magic. Everything changed, though, during Eileen's 6th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She had received Outstanding on every N.E.W.T test, and was working towards a career in the healing arts. With her mastery at potions Eileen had held dreams of greatness. She would cure not only magical ailments, but muggle diseases as well. She most likely would have achieved this, but fate held other plans:

Eileen met Tobais Snape.

At age seven-teen, Eileen was one of the most beautiful, captivating girls at school. Her pale skin contrasted beautifully with her sleek black hair … and her dark green eyes were wide and bright with fiery determination. Tall and thin, with a prominently arched nose, Eileen was an impressive sight. She could have had any man she wanted. Her love, however, had been saved for the muggle boy she met over summer break. Twenty-year-old Tobais Snape and fallen instantly in love with Eileen's beauty and passion.

Tobais had been a handsome man, once. He was very tall and thin, with hard black eyes that shone of power and confidence. His face was perfectly proportioned, but his lips were thin and prone to scowls. Tobais had dark hair that hung charmingly around his eyes – so elegant, Eileen had fancied. Without considering her options Eileen had agreed to marry the man. He promised her that he was happy his wife was a witch, and that he would never keep her from the magical world she so loved.

As soon as she graduated, Eileen married Tobais. In only a few weeks she realized the mistake she had made. Tobais was kind at first, often asking Eileen to demonstrate charms and spells. Once he realized he would never be able to learn magic himself, Tobais let his true colours show. Overnight, it seemed, the man became a wild, terrifying stranger – his dark, brooding eyes were filled with bitterness every time they met Eileen's.

Tobais seemed to drink more often than not. Eileen was frightened – and yet, she stayed. A part of the young girl was still in love with the man she married. Perhaps, she had reasoned, it was not too late to salvage their love. She tried to be a good wife and, despite the growing hostility between them, Tobais and Eileen remained together.

It had been a rainy day when Eileen found out she was pregnant. She had been sorry to hear the news. She knew full well Tobais was not fit for fatherhood. Trying to keep her spirits up Eileen pretended to be happy as she announced the news to Tobais.

That was the first time Tobais hit his wife.

Throughout her pregnancy, Eileen suffered at the hands of Tobais. He was so wretched and cruel that Eileen decided she had only one option: to learn Dark Magic. She felt that was the only way she would sleep easy at night. Spells were better than muggle weapons, she knew, and she was determined to do anything possible to protect her child.

As she had done with every other subject, Eileen mastered the Dark Arts. Within months she had learned hundreds of spells and incantations, long histories, and dozens of poisonous potions. Eileen fervently hoped she would never find need to use the magic, but she felt safe knowing she could cast such spells. She felt certain she should teach her child, when it came, the Dark Arts also. If she died or was otherwise unable to protect her baby from Tobais – and the world – she could at least be certain it was equipped with the most powerful spells known to man.

Eileen had quickly spun into a dark and bleak place. The lovely, promising girl she had been was dead, leaving behind a numb woman who was all alone and powerless – with only her wand in her hand and a baby in her belly. Eileen was terrified of what the future held. She had every right to be …

Severus was born in the September of Eileen's nineteenth year. The baby had Eileen's strong features and fine bones, but he had inherited his father's eyes and moody disposition. Eileen was pleased with her son; he was a beautiful baby with milky skin and hair the colour of night. Tobais was constantly on edge, dreading that his son might be a wizard. Eileen herself worried that Severus might take after his muggle family, but she felt fairly certain that the Prince bloodline would take over. It was not until Severus was a year old that Eileen knew he was magical.

Eileen had been home alone, playing with Severus in the backyard. They had come across a spider's web, so delicate and yet so strong. Severus was fascinated by the genius craftsmanship. He had stared and stared, blinking his long-lashed eyes in wonder. A lone butterfly soon found the web, too, much to Eileen's dismay. Her son had never witnessed death before – and now, as he sat so still and enchanted, the beautiful insect landed in the sticky web and began to struggle.

Severus watched, horror in his young face, as the butterfly writhed and shivered in the dewy net. Severus wailed softly and reached his arms out, trying to pull himself from Eileen's grasp. As his small arms flailed, reaching so desperately towards the insect, it happened:

The web began to unravel, slowly and carefully, releasing the struggling butterfly. As the winged creature soared into the air, rising higher and higher, the baby in Eileen's arms began to laugh – beautiful peels of child's laughter. As for Eileen, she simply sat and cried; she felt as though an earthly weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She knew Tobais would never have a moment's kindness again but, at that moment, it did not matter. Nothing mattered but the joy Eileen felt as she gazed at her son … a true Prince, she had thought with a smile. A half-blood Prince, she corrected herself. She hugged the precious child to her chest; warm salty tears running from her cheeks to his.

These memories flooded Eileen's mind as she stood, alone, in the very spot she had made her discovery eight years earlier. All the beauty of that afternoon came back in a glad rush. Eileen had been so relieved to share her magic with another; to not be alone in that sordid house with Tobais. Over the years, however, Eileen's hope faded into hopeless disillusionment. She had tried – God knows she had tried – to protect Severus from his father's tirades. In the end, though, Eileen knew that all she had to offer her son was her love – and the Dark Arts.

As soon as he was old enough to understand their meaning, Eileen began to teach Severus Dark spells and terms. He had caught on immediately; so quickly, in fact, that Eileen worried she had gone too far.

If her son inherited Tobais' moods, his knowledge of the Dark Arts might prove to be his undoing …

From far away, the sound of a screech-owl jolted Eileen from her memories. She had not realized the increasing cold until now. Drawing her cloak closer around herself she walked into the wind. Eileen went from flower to flower, a steady stream of water flowing from her wand-tip. As she waved the wand about her garden, she took care of her weekly weeding, pruning, and seeding.

Eileen tapped dying flowers, encouraging their petals to revive. She waved her wand at tightly closed blooms, watching with delight as they spiraled open.

By the end of her midnight session, Eileen's garden was a richly scented, lush paradise of blooms. Eileen knew the neighbors wondered why the Snape's garden was so healthy and beautiful, but she did not care. Let them think what they want, she reasoned, re-pocketing her precious wand.

Turning towards the house with a resigned sigh, Eileen walked down the stone path and up the porch steps. As she did, a white moth fluttered into her face and then raced towards the sky.

Eileen paused, bitter tears filling sad eyes.

She wished she could be like that moth. She wished she could fly up, up, up into the clouds and never return.

Eileen wished she could walk away now and not look back; leave her husband's home behind, and return to the only world in which she belonged.


	5. You're A Witch

Chapter 5 "You're A Witch"

**Chapter 5 "You're A Witch"**

It had been a rainy spring thus far – even for England. Every day seemed gloomier than the one before; each night darker than the last. Although the wet weather was fine for flowers it put a damper on outdoor activities. The Evans sisters, much to their dismay, had not been to the playground in one week. The longer Petunia and Lily were cooped up, the more disgruntled they became.

Petunia was currently seated in the parlour, an angry look upon her pinched young face. Lily was sprawled on the floor, reading a mystery. She longed to chat, but she knew that Petunia was in no mood. Her sister's gaze was fixed on the wall – which, Lily was convinced, would soon have a hole burned into it.

The silence was overwhelming. Lily could not take it any more. She rolled over onto her side and looked up at her sister.

"I don't like this book."

"Shut up."

Petunia scowled at Lily and turned her attention back to the wall. Lily shook her head in disgust.

"Well, I don't like it! It's written for little kids."

"You are a little kid, Lily."

"Well, I'm not that little. Besides, I'm bored of reading. Let's do something."

Lily could tell that Petunia had nearly reached her breaking point. Her face was flushed and her eyes were narrowed; she looked as though she were willing herself not to throw things at Lily. Petunia's words came out slow and controlled.

"And what, Lily Rose Evans, do you suggest we do? It's pouring outside! We'll be struck by lightening, probably."

Lily rolled her huge green eyes.

"We don't have to go outside … we could make-believe a story. I'll even let you be the princess this time. I'll play a mean old witch or something."

Petunia's cheeks puffed out in indignation. At that moment, she herself looked very much the role of 'mean old witch.' Lily could not help herself – she giggled.

"Or y-you," Lily chortled, "could be the- the witch-" she gasped back her laughter "-since you look so much like one anyway!"

Petunia's eyes grew wide and she jumped off the sofa, storming past Lily in a huff. Lily sobered instantly and she tagged after Petunia.

"Wait, Tuney!" she cried. "I didn't mean to …"

In the kitchen, Mrs. Evans smiled to herself. Petunia had her moments – but Lily knew how to encourage them. She could be pesty. Mrs. Evans shook her head. Her two girls could not be more different.

Upstairs, Lily had finally given up on Petunia. Settling into her room she closed her eyes and listened to the rain. She could hear the chimes as they were nudged, melodiously, by the breeze. She could hear the wind as it flew through the trees. Off in the distance, she heard the Snape's screen door swinging off its hinges. It was not pleasant weather for most, but Lily loved the rain. She longed to be outside, barefoot and soaking wet – but she was not brave enough to sneak past her mother. It was too risky.

Lily's eyes wandered over to a vase of roses on her bedside table. Plucking one, she twirled it slowly between her fingers. Oh, how bored she was! She longed for something to happen; anything, anything at all. As she idly sat, waiting, Lily's flower did a most peculiar thing. One by one, each petal individually folded open, then closed up, then opened again ... and again … and again. Lily stared wondrously at the flower. She picked up other flowers and twirled them, too, with the same magical response. Lily could not wait to tell Petunia. But then, Petunia would likely accuse her of being a freak, or some such.

Lily set the flower down sadly. If only Petunia had a better sense of humor! She wasn't bad, really. She was just so … ordinary. Lily sighed. Petunia was as unlike Lily as a sister could be. Even though it was only two years that separated the girls, Petunia had always seemed to think it was a lifetime.

Lily turned to the window, where little ribbons of raindrops slid down the glass. The afternoon shower would soon erupt into a storm, Lily felt certain. The darkling sky showed no sign of lightening anytime soon. Speaking of storms … Lily pressed her ear to the window. She had heard someone screaming, hadn't she? Tentatively, she unlocked the window and leaned into the rain.

Yes, she was certain now. The storm had come early inside the neighbors' house. Lily felt sad as she absently listened to the man shouting at his hysterical wife. He was hitting her, Lily knew; he was, perhaps, beating her. Lily's young heart filled with sorrow. She felt tears roll down her face - or was it only the rain?

Confused and scared as to how she should react, Lily slumped against the window frame. Petunia was right. What right did Lily have thinking she was anything more than a helpless little kid? Lily sniffed. Closing the window, she shook her dark red hair. Heavy water droplets fell from it, creating a small puddle on the floor. Lily groaned. She did not want to clean that.

Lily blinked.

The floor was dry! Lily gazed down in disbelief. She reached down and felt the area that had been wet: it was dry as a bone. Lily felt her hair. It, too, was dry. Smiling, Lily spun round in a small circle.

"I may be a little kid," Lily thought, "but I do have some kind of power in me."

Just how were these things happening? Lily wondered. She would soon find out.

Severus closed his eyes as tightly as possible. This only enhanced the image of his mother's bruised face. He had his hands clamped over his ears, but even that did not silence the sound of his parent's fight.

It had been over something stupid, as usual. Eileen had forgotten to close the bedroom window, and incoming rain had interrupted Tobais' nap. The fight sounded much worse than it really was. Eileen was screaming hysterically because Tobais, in his haste to find his wife, had sent Severus tumbling down the stairs. Severus, thanks to his natural magic, had been uninjured. Eileen, however, was outraged. She could not believe her husband would stoop to such a level, throwing a child down the stairs. She had not ceased screaming since, not even when Tobais slapped her violently across the face.

The episode on the stairs was an accident. Even Snape, bitter though he was against Tobais, could see that. His father, for once, had not purposefully caused harm. Eileen did not realize this, however. By now, it hardly mattered. Once his parents began to struggle, the initial cause of the fight was forgotten.

Severus gave up trying to block the commotion from his ears. Instead, he tried to block it from his mind. He focused on the sound of the rain as it poured down the roof. He listened intently to the voices of the Earth … the sweep of the wind, the groan of the trees, the rustling of long grass. The back door was opening and closing aimlessly in the breeze. He heard a squeaking sound from next-door. Someone was opening a window there, too. Great. He guessed that the Evans could hear his parents' fight loud and clear, now.

Severus leaned out of the window. Sticking out his tongue to catch the rain, he shivered at its chilly sensation. The sky seemed to be falling; the dark clouds were so low to the ground. Severus wanted to be inside the storm, when it came; right there in the midst of all the chaos. Why couldn't he, he reasoned? His parents would be fighting for a while, and by the time they were finished they would be too exhausted to think of him. Tentatively, Severus stuck one, then both legs, out of his window. He had seen Lily Evans "float" to the ground before – why couldn't he do the same? They were both magical, after all.

A sudden rush of anxiety came over Severus: What if he was not as magically gifted as Lily? His heart skipped a beat. It was possible that Lily would be better at magic than he was. Then, he feared, she would not want to be his friend. He would have absolutely nothing to offer her.

His insecurities vanished quickly. The rain-slicked sill had caused him to slide off and hurtle towards the ground. No, not hurtle … Float. He was falling in slow-motion. Weightless, Severus floated to the ground.

He landed in a mud puddle.

The storm arrived at four-o-clock that afternoon. It was a raging, towering storm, with a temper unlike most spring storms in England. The sky seemed to split open as lightning splintered through. The thunder was deafening. Every sensible creature had hidden itself in a nook or hollow somewhere, sheltered safely from the sky's wrath. Every creature, that is, except for Severus. He had taken a walk to the playground down the lane, despite his mum's previous warnings about lightning and open-ground.

He took a swing and flipped the seat over, then sat himself down and began to swing softly. Soon, the grating sound of the swing was drowned out by the increasingly bad weather. As the storm grew, Severus stopped pushing himself and let the wind bear his swing upward.

The stronger the storm brewed, the higher Sev's swing went. It was a wild and messy storm. Severus felt leaves, grass, rain, and flower petals land on his face and clothes. Severus had never experienced such complete abandon of his senses. He closed his eyes to the rain and let the wind carry him.

He hoped that the storm inside the Snape house was not so fervent and dangerous as this one.

The next afternoon was bright and sunny. It was as if the storm had turned itself inside out, spewing flecks of golden sun all round. Severus woke up early and threw on the first clothes he could find: on old smock (a hand-me-down from his wizarding family), too-short trousers, and a huge black coat that used to belong to Eileen. He liked to wear it because he could easily imagine it was a cloak. He could traipse about his backyard imagining he was at Hogwarts. He didn't bother with shoes; Severus liked the feel of earth beneath his feet.

The day had begun like any other, with no grand expectations. Eileen and Tobais were not speaking to one another. Breakfast was cold milk-toast and mint tea. Severus hurried through the meager meal and then bounded outside, half-filled teacup still in hand. He was just about to nestle against a tree and read when he heard the sound of girlish laughter.

The laughter was coming from the playground. Tea and book were forgotten as Severus (bat-like in his oversized coat) ran through his yard and to the playground. His heart leapt as he saw the familiar red glint of Lily's hair through the trees. Creeping silently along, he hid himself behind some overgrown shrubbery. He settled back on his heels to watch the girls (for, of course, Petunia was there also).

Severus could feel his eyes well with hunger … hunger for the sweet side of life, for the innocence his childhood had lacked. It was a sad, hopeless kind of hunger – yet greedy, too, because Severus was starving. He was starving for a source of happiness, something – someone – he could tuck away inside his heart, to retrieve whenever he was sad. And he was always sad. Severus was starving for the purity of youth, for an honest and loving friend. Severus needed to be a child. He had never learned how to be a child (oh, yes, children must learn such things).

Here, before him, before those hungry eyes, was a child of such delight, such tender beauty … how could Severus help but love Lily?

Severus watched intently as Lily brought her swing higher and higher into the air, until at last she surpassed her sister. She loosened her grip on the chains. Petunia gasped.

"Lily, don't!"

But Lily had already let go of the chains. She flew off of the swings, graceful and light as a sparrow. Severus held his breath. He had seen her do this before, but never so beautifully as just now. Lily soared higher and higher, and finally landed softly on the grass.

Petunia slammed her heels into the ground, stopping her swing the usual way, and marched over to Lily.

"Mummy said you couldn't do that, Lily. You are not allowed!"

"But nothing bad happened," Lily giggled. A thought seemed to occur to her.

Lily walked to the bush where Severus hid. Severus held his breath as Lily reached out and plucked a flower from the branches. Severus breathed out in relief. She had not seen him.

"Tuney, look at what I can do …"

Lily cupped the flower in her hand. Petunia came closer, apparently too curious to disapprove. As the girls stood in silence, the flower opened and closed, opened and closed … Lily looked pleased.

"Stop that, now!" Petunia cried, a frantic tone to her voice.

"It didn't hurt you," Lily said. She tossed the flower behind the bush, where Severus caught it and stuck it inside his pocket.

"It isn't normal," Petunia was saying. She paused, longingly. "How do you do it, Lily?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Severus could not contain himself any longer. He had leaped out from behind the bushes, coat flapping madly. With a little scream, Petunia ran back to the swings. Lily looked surprised, but she stayed in her place. She blinked.

"Isn't what obvious?" she asked.

Nervous and eager, Severus lowered his voice so that Petunia would not hear. The thrill of being so close to Lily had overridden his sensibility. He felt dazed in the scent of her. He glanced behind him.

"I know what you are."

"What?"

"You're … you're a witch."

Severus watched helplessly as Lily's eyes grew wide with indignation.

"That's an awful thing to say!" she blurted, and turned towards her sister; her pretty, freckled nose in the air.

Severus felt desperate.

"No, no!" he cried, his pale face unusually flushed. He ran to the girls, a ridiculous site in his bat-like coat. A fleeting thought told him to remove the coat, but he could not bear to let Lily see the smock beneath it. He neared the swings.

Petunia and Lily stood together, holding onto the swing poles. Severus shook his head.

"You are, really … you are a witch. I've been watching you for a while now. But it's okay! My mum is a witch, too, and I'm a wizard!"

Petunia's icy laugh did not surprise Severus, though Lily gave a little start.

"A wizard!" Petunia screeched, boldly letting go of the pole.

"I know you – you're the Snape boy from next-door. A bunch of nutters, that's what your family is. WHY have you been spying on us?"

Severus felt uncomfortably warm.

"Haven't spied … not on you, anyway," he said to Petunia. "Why would I want to watch a muggle?"

A small huff escaped Petunia's lips, and at the sound of the strange word, Lily sniggered.

"Come, Lily. We're going home!" Petunia turned on her heel, and she set off towards the Evans home angrily.

Lily threw a disapproving look at Severus and followed her sister, a haughty spring in her step.

Severus did not move for several long moments. How could this have gone so horribly wrong? Everything he had feared had happened. Fingering Lily's fallen flower, so ineloquently shoved in his pocket, Severus turned to go home.

The day held no more brightness for him. His world had, once again, been plunged into a sea of disappointment.


	6. Feel the Earth Spin

Chapter Six: "Feel the Earth Spin"

Chapter Six: "Feel the Earth Spin"

The following morning, Severus woke to a shaft of sunlight bearing through his eyelids. He lay in bed, heart heavy, and eyes refusing to open and embrace the day. For a minute, Severus did not know why he felt so forlorn. Then, he remembered.

It had all gone wrong.

How had he let himself act so rash, speak so freely and unplanned? Besides that, the insipid Petunia had ruined any chances Severus had to win Lily's trust. Witches and wizards? Severus groaned. Who would believe such tales? Certainly, common muggles did not believe in magic. Being muggle-born, Lily had been raised to view wizardry as false. Magic was something in a fable … something to be feared.

Severus desperately wanted a second chance. He not only needed to prove to Lily that magic was real, but also that she herself possessed magical ability. Severus had always felt he himself was especially gifted. It overwhelmed him to think of what he and Lily could do if they joined together.

For a minute, Severus was caught up in illusory dreams. His heart, so tired for one so young, felt light with the thought of Lily. It quickly returned to normal, however, as the reality of the situation came flooding back to him. He had missed his chance through his own impulsiveness. Lily would never believe him now. Why should she?

All in a grumble, Severus climbed out of bed, the floor cold beneath his bare feet. Adjusting his oversized nightshirt Severus glared at his reflection in the mirror. What must Lily have thought when she saw him leap from behind the brush, talking of witches and wizards? 'An underfed boy with no suitable wardrobe and a big imagination, that's what,' Severus scowled. The more he reflected upon the previous afternoon the more agitated he became. He made a silent vow to start dressing better – just in case Lily happened to see him. Summer still had many weeks remaining. A lot could happen between now and then.

Severus wandered to the bath. He picked up a pair of shears from the drawer, staring grimly into the vanity mirror. A trim and a shampoo couldn't hurt, he decided. He had never been the sort to trouble himself over his appearance. It was the mind that mattered. To be brilliant, quick-witted, and intellectual … these were traits that Severus hoped to nurture and sustain as he grew older. He wanted so badly to be the best student at Hogwarts, once he arrived, and already it seemed that his natural intelligence was growing far faster than he.

Severus finished clipping his hair. It now hung evenly around his neck. He proceeded to the tub and stuck his head under the faucet for a belated shampoo. His hair dried instantly, probably because his natural magic sensed impatience. Severus grimaced. His hair was static and fine when freshly washed. Split ends stuck out around his head like a dark halo. He wet his palms and flattened them against his hair. Keeping up one's appearance was so much trouble! He did not know how girls managed it …

Nine-year-old Sara Bell peddled happily down Spinner's End. She was on her way to visit Lily, who was her dearest friend in the world. The weather was fine and the day was young. Sara's long brown curls flew behind her as she hastened to the Evans' home. At last, she reached the drive.

"Sara!" Lily's voice called gaily and she appeared at the gate, her jeans rolled up her claves.

"I didn't think you would ever get here!"

Sara grinned. "Neither did I. Come – let's go to the playground."

"Alright," Lily agreed, propping Sara's bike against the house. Together, the two girls ran to the playground; Sara claimed the slide as Lily took control of the balance beam. Lily loved the balance beam. She could do all kinds of tricks that no one had taught her; tricks she had never tried to learn. She had always felt at home on the beam.

"How can you make that look so easy?" Sara asked, watching as Lily nimbly jumped onto the beam, ran gracefully across, and then stepped off, weightless as a feather.

"You almost look like you're floating," Sara said, her eyes wide with appreciation.

"I think I was floating," Lily said softly, but Sara did not hear.

"Come on," Lily said suddenly, "let's sit under that tree for a while."

The girls settled themselves beneath a shady Elm, in a thicket dense with trees. Lily sat on her feet and gazed off into the distance. She could feel the sweet breath of summer against her face; it smelled vaguely of grass, soil, and wildflowers: a heavenly scent, indeed.

"Lily?'

"Yes, Sara?"

"Why so you look so sad?"

"Do I?"

"Yeah … are you?"

Lily frowned a little and brushed away some stray hairs.

"Well … no. I don't believe so."

"Either you are sad or you aren't," Sara remarked.

Lily's frown turned quizzical.

"I don't think that's true," she stated slowly, speaking more to herself than to Sara.

"A person can have more than one feeling at a time."

Sara shook her head.

"Whatever. You think too much, Lily. Can I play with your hair?"

Lily nodded and turned her back to Sara. She closed her eyes as Sara wove her red locks into braids.

"Lily, your hair grew so fast!"

"I know. I went to bed last night wishing I had really long hair, and when I woke up it had grown!"

Lily turned abruptly to face Sara. Her braids slowly unraveled as she started to speak.

"Sara, do you believe in magic?"

Sara's eyes grew large.

"Magic? Are you daft? Who believes in magic? Everyone knows it's a trick. Magicians even teach magic tricks, if you pay them."

Lily shook her head. She picked up a pinecone and rolled it between her palms.

"That's not what I meant – not that kind of magic. I mean, do you believe in real magic?"

"You mean like Santa Clause?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"No, not Santa Clause. I mean like a witch or wizard."

Sara looked affright.

"That's wicked, Lily! Don't talk like that; it's wrong. My mum says so."

Lily abandoned the pinecone and began picking at wild violets. Deep blue petals flittered to the ground in a heap.

"I didn't say I believed in it. I just asked you a question. What is it was real? What if someone was born a witch and couldn't help it?"

Sara edged away from Lily and pulled her knees to her chin. The heap of flower petals grew larger.

"Well, it simply isn't possible, Lily. Magic is just a fairy-story, an illusion. No one can be born with it because it doesn't exist. It's a question of science, Lily, and science has no room for mysticism."

"Mysticism?" Lily repeated with a giggle. "Where'd you learn a fancy word like that?"

She leaned back on the ground, her gaze trying to find blue sky though the tree branches. Sara merely pressed her lips together in silence.

"Forget I ever mentioned it," Lily finally announced, standing up. She shook pine needles and violet petals from her hair. Sara seemed relieved.

"Good idea."

"Alright then. Want to go back to my house for tea and biscuits?"

"Sure."

The girls linked arms and began walking across the field. Each was lost in her own thoughts, and silent with a tension that began to build a wall around them.

Evening came and Severus sat on the grass, knees up, watching a brilliant sunset. The sky turned blood red, then faded to pink as the sun winked behind a cloud and vanished. Soon, Severus was bathed in a pale blue twilight. The air grew damp and he shivered a little. His mind wandered to places he had hoped not to go tonight: dark little worlds that, once entered, were terribly difficult to escape. He tried fervently to clear his mind of the horrors he saw there, but it was as if a door had closed in his brain. The door had locked, trapping in all of the dark, troubled realities of the human condition. The world rested none-too-lightly on Sev's shoulders.

He was only a child, for heaven's sake! How he longed for one day – one hour – of undiluted joy.

His wish was granted sooner than expected. From the gate that enclosed his parents' home, Severus heard a familiar voice.

"It's all true, isn't it?"

Severus turned with a gasp. Lily stood at the gate, her eyes filled with realization – and worry. Severus lifted his brow.

"What?"

"Magic - it's real. You were telling Tuney and me the truth, weren't you."

Severus shook his head. Was this happening? Had Lily truly just spoken to him of her own accord? It had happened so quickly, Severus was uncertain if Lily was really speaking to him. Had she just said magic was real? He stood.

"Yeah, it's real," he mumbled in a daze, the words falling from his lips without his permission.

"I thought so," Lily nodded, and gestured to the gate. "Can I come in?"

"Wha- oh, yeah – yes. I mean, no … um, of course!"

Severus fumbled with the lock and let Lily join him in the garden. She smiled. Severus felt instantly grateful for his clean hair and his Muggle clothes.

Lily walked to where Severus had watched the sunset. She sat down, pressed both hands against the ground, and closed her eyes. Severus stared.

Lily opened her eyes and smiled.

"Did you know that if you sit still – really, really still –" she lowered her voice to a whisper "-you can feel the earth spinning?"

Severus shook his head.

"Come here," Lily said and patted the ground in front of her. Severus awkwardly sat down, his knees embarrassingly close to Lily's. He placed his hands on either side of his crossed legs, applying pressure as Lily had done.

"Now, close your eyes," Lily instructed, her sweet voice even sweeter in the moonlight. Severus closed his eyes.

"Be still," Lily said softly. "Be very still … can you feel it?"

Severus held his breath. He waited, feeling slightly ridiculous. And then, unexpectedly, he felt it: a pleasant, dizzy sensation, as if the earth was whirling beneath him. Startled, he opened his eyes. Lily grinned.

"Isn't it grand?" She asked.

Severus nodded.

"It's amazing," he agreed.

The two children gazed at each other for a few seconds, lost in the joy of their shared experience. Then from next-door:

"Lilllyyy! Mummy wants you inside. Lilllyyy!"

Lily jumped up.

"It's Tuney. My sister," she explained. Severus stood also, a bit embarrassed but very, very pleased. He finally found his voice.

"Want to come over tomorrow afternoon? I can tell you about our world – the magic world, that is."

Lily smiled, her pretty face becoming heavenly beautiful.

"I'll be here," she said, and turned towards the gate.

"Oh," she exclaimed, turning back. "I forgot to introduce myself.

"My name is Lily. Lily Evans."

Severus smiled in the starlight.

"I know."


End file.
